


Comforting Claws

by gumbiecat



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Theo's in there but he's asleep the whole time, Von Pinn was the best caretaker she could be and you can't convince me otherwise, Von Pinn's Soft Side, tagging him anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gumbiecat/pseuds/gumbiecat
Summary: "She's the only caretaker I ever had who showed me love or kindness."On Castle Wulfenbach, Tarvek mourns. Von Pinn tracks him down.
Relationships: Tarvek Sturmvoraus & Gilgamesh "Gil" Wulfenbach, Tarvek Sturmvoraus & Von Pinn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Comforting Claws

It was slightly before midnight, long past the bedtime of Castle Wulfenbach’s youngest residents, but Tarvek Sturmvoraus wasn’t tired or asleep. He wasn’t even in bed. He sat on a catwalk, arms leaning on the safety rail and legs dangling, staring blankly at the main walkway below. Castle Wulfenbach never really slept, and a sporadic but plentiful stream of Jägers, Lackya, constructs, and even a few humans passed back and forth below as Tarvek watched numbly. No one looked up or bothered him—there was no real reason for anyone to be on the catwalk except for maintenance, or, of course, people-watching. 

Not that Tarvek was doing much actual people-watching. He was mostly staring at a spot on the far wall. There was a stain there, coffee or tea flung from a tray—in anger? A clumsy accident? It didn’t matter. Tarvek wasn’t even really looking at the spot. It just happened to be in the way of where his eyes were aimed. 

He felt like he was filled with soggy wool. The kind that came off the sheep on the farms around Sturmhalten, damp and smelly and _heavy_. It was hard to breathe under the weight, harder still to feel. He leaned a cheek against the safety rail. The cold metal pierced through for a moment before the wool got the better of it. He imagined fibers of wool in the paint of the far wall, tight and curled. 

Tarvek didn’t look up when he heard Von Pinn’s signature footsteps approaching. He didn’t really care if she yelled at him. 

He was mildly surprised when she didn’t. Instead, he heard the soft creak of leather and metal as she sat down beside him, her legs dangling off the catwalk next to his. 

Neither boy nor construct spoke for several minutes. A few Jägers passed below, and one made a crude joke that set the others laughing raucously. Von Pinn growled in the back of her throat, but said nothing. 

“Am I in trouble?” Tarvek asked at last. He didn’t take his eyes off the wall. 

“Not tonight,” said Von Pinn. 

Tarvek scowled. “I don’t need special treatment.”

“Good. You’re not getting any.”

“But I’m not in trouble?”

“There is a difference between special treatment and sympathy. Which reminds me, Master Gil is worried about you,” she added. 

“Did he rat me out?”

“He told me you were not in your room.”

Tarvek couldn’t find the energy for a nod or a shrug. He’d been staring at the same spot on the far wall for at least ten minutes, and particles danced in front of his eyes. 

He’d seen Von Pinn move unnaturally quickly—it seemed, in fact, to be her default mode of locomotion—so he knew it was on purpose when she reached for him slowly, projecting her movements so he could see her intentions. He didn’t resist when she put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him against her side. She was warm, her heat seeping through the wool. 

“Do you control your body temperature?” Tarvek asked. 

“Yes,” said Von Pinn. “It is part of my function as a caretaker.”

It was a rude question. He _was_ getting special treatment. That stung. 

He was about to say so when Von Pinn began combing her fingers through his hair. Her claws felt nice raking Tarvek’s scalp. He shivered and lapsed back into silence. 

“I don’t think she even liked me,” he said suddenly. 

Von Pinn stayed silent. Her fingers kept combing Tarvek’s hair. It was unbelievably soothing. 

“She never wanted to spend time together,” he said. He let his head fall against Von Pinn. “I only saw her at dinner. Not even then. Only formal dinners. The rest of the time Anevka and I were with a nanny. I asked her to read to me once and she said later and never did. I showed her a leaf and she said to stop bothering her. I didn’t even _know_ her.”

Something was tickling his mouth. He wiped it and his fingers came away salty and wet. “She’s just a stranger. Who happens to be related to me. I shouldn’t be sad.”

“You must feel what you feel,” said Von Pinn sternly. 

“Not if it’s stupid. I don’t get sad when strangers die. I’m not a sissy like that.” Tarvek wiped his eyes furiously with his shirtsleeve. “She always had the nanny take us out of the room when we got upset,” he said angrily. He was starting to feel things, emotions shouldering the wool aside like irritable rams, and he hated it. Hated himself for being so—irrational. Stupid. He was no use to anyone like this. 

“Your usefulness is irrelevant,” Von Pinn said, and Tarvek flinched. He hadn’t realized he’d said that aloud. “You are not a construct,” she continued. “You do not exist to be of use.”

He snorted. “I might as _well_ be.”

“People will find their own uses for you. But your usefulness is irrelevant to your existence. That is a fact of its own.” Von Pinn tilted Tarvek’s head until he met her eyes. “You are human, Master Tarvek, and you must allow yourself to feel the death of your mother. In your own time, in your own way, whether it be sadness, anger, or something else entirely. Grant yourself this kindness, even if others will not grant it to you.”

Tarvek tried to pull away, but Von Pinn wouldn’t let him. She held him close as he tried to muffle his sobs. 

Later, she carried him back to the room he shared with Theophilus DuMedd. She wasn’t terribly surprised to sense Master Gil hidden in the wardrobe, and she gave it a stern, knowing glare as she set Tarvek—not asleep, but not quite awake either, wrung out and empty from crying—on his bed. 

“You can stay as long as you do not wake or bother either of them,” Von Pinn said, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Theo, who was snoring softly. “If you do, there will be consequences.” She raised a finger to her lips with one last glare at the wardrobe, pulled Tarvek’s blanket up over his shoulders, and glided out of the room, melting into the shadows of the hall. 

A few seconds later, Tarvek felt a warm hand grasp his. He scooted over automatically to make room on the bed for Gil. The two boys lay together, hands entwined, listening to each other’s soft breathing and the quiet snoring of their roommate, and neither would ever remember who fell asleep first.

**Author's Note:**

> How old is Tarvek when this takes place? Depends how old you think he was when he left Castle Wulfenbach, and when his mother died. (It's hinted in the novelization that Anevka killed their mother, so I suppose it also depends on what the age difference between Anevka and Tarvek is.)


End file.
